


For Lack of a Writing Desk

by misura



Category: Uprooted - Naomi Novik
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27656036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: After helping a baronet with a bandit problem, Solya and Marek are less than pleased to find themselves in a guestroom with only a single bed.
Relationships: The Falcon | Solya/Marek
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	For Lack of a Writing Desk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taywen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taywen/gifts).



Marek took in the small room, the expression on his face disgusted. "I can't believe this."

 _I can't believe you're going to throw a fit about this,_ Solya thought. He didn't allow this sentiment to show, of course; Marek did not take well to people disagreeing with him.

Most days, Solya enjoyed the challenge, the thrill of managing Marek's moods, knowing it was a gift few men and fewer women possessed. (To be fair, it didn't help that Marek seemed to feel that once he'd had a woman in his bed, there was no need to ever talk to her again.)

"We've spent the past week dealing with _his_ bandit problem, and this is the hospitality we get?"

Solya wanted to curl up and sleep for at least a day. He'd probably be lucky if he got half a day: like most regular people, Marek had no idea how much the use of magic exhausted Solya - and Solya had no intention of remedying that. The limits of his ability were for him to know and for others to guess at.

"Just look at it! No writing desk, no table - only one bed."

 _I'm cold and I'm tired and I have no intention of sleeping on the floor._ Another thought best left unvoiced. Solya managed not to sigh. "Perhaps the baronet assumed you would spend the night elsewhere." Leaving off Marek's titles was risky, but Solya felt their relationship had gotten to the point where he might do so in private with relative security.

Marek snorted. "His daughters weren't _that_ attractive."

Solya had thought they looked attractive enough, but with their father in residence - well, no doubt a mere baronet would be delighted to snag a royal prince as his son-in-law.

He realized Marek was looking at him and frowning, and schooled his features to look attentive.

"Well?" Marek said. "Can't you do something?"

Solya considered a number of spells before regretfully deciding that knocking Marek out on the spot would do more harm than good in the long run. "Spells to produce extra furniture are, alas, somewhat outside of my area of expertise."

"Useless." Marek shook his head.

Solya swallowed an angry reply. Times like these, he almost thought Sarkan had had the right idea: bury himself somewhere far away from court and other people, and do whatever he liked, without being accountable to anyone.

"I suppose we're going to have to share, then?" Marek sighed. "Fine. What do I care?"

"You - " Solya said, before he could stop himself. It was good, he told himself. For Marek to not assume Solya would sleep on the floor, to treat him like an almost-equal - that was very good. That made all the hardships of the past months worth it. That was what Solya's goal had been all along.

Sarkan in his tower would never have any influence, any real power, other than his magic.

"You're a wizard, and you've been very useful to me, Solya," Marek said. "I don't reward loyalty by making people sleep on a cold, uncomfortable floor when there's a bed big enough to share."

Solya eyed the bed. At least the baronet had been generous with blankets.

"Anyway, I'm dead tired." Marek yawned. "Those bandits were some slippery bastards. Without your sight magic, I dare say we might still be searching for their hide-out."

"I live to serve," Solya said, a rote phrase that meant nothing and yet seemed to fool oh-so many people at court into assuming they could trust him.

Marek snorted. "Oh, please. You live to improve your position. But hey, as long as you help me improve mine, that's fine with me. You help me, I help you, and in the end, we both come out ahead. Sounds fair to me."

 _And does it sound fair to you that your brother is the one who will inherit the crown while you're the one representing Polnya on the battlefield?_ Solya chuckled, trying to sound a little sheepish.

He could tell Marek liked the idea that he'd managed to surprise Solya.

"You should probably get rid of those clothes," Marek said, already stripping.

It occured to Solya that sharing a bed would mean, well, sharing a bed. Getting very close together while not wearing any clothes.

"Don't tell me you're shy." Marek's body was that of a young man in excellent health. He had a few scars, but they only served to make him look tougher, more dangerous. More attractive. "Come on, Solya. Nobody expects a wizard to have a warrior's body. Besides, we're friends, aren't we? As your friend, I solemnly promise never to breathe a word to any other living soul of what you look like naked."

Solya rolled his eyes, mostly to get Marek back to being amused, and then he told himself to stop being silly about this and started to take off his shirt.

Marek's body was very warm. Not _comfortable_ , as such, but Solya could imagine women enjoying that, enjoying feeling the strength of Marek's body as he moved against them, kissing them and touching them and - _all right, I might be in a bit of trouble here_.

Nothing he couldn't handle, provided Marek didn't notice anything. And they were both tired, so the odds of Marek falling asleep without noticing anything unusual were excellent.

In fact, Marek might have dozed off already.

"Solya?"

Solya supposed he'd been asking for that. He said, "I'm still awake."

"I'm not - " Marek hesitated, which was unusual. Solya tried to force himself more awake, more aware, but their unusual position didn't help. He wanted to get closer to Marek, to make the most of this rare chance, and also to stay as far away as possible, because providing himself with fodder for some future carnal fantasies wasn't worth risking everything he'd accomplished thus far.

"Not awake? I doubt that, unless you're talking in your sleep, which is a very bad habit for anyone wanting to keep secrets." Solya kept his tone light, teasing. He tried to remember what was appropriate in situations like this. He'd had lovers, male and female: he knew how to play that game.

Of course, he and Marek weren't lovers. _Yet,_ a voice in the back of his head whispered.

"Forget it," Marek said, sounding like Solya had hurt his feelings.

Solya sighed. He felt annoyed with himself, yes, but he also felt strangely guilty. He said, "Marechek," then was appalled at his own breach of etiquette, at speaking to Marek as if they _were_ lovers.

"It's the battle, you know how I get after a good fight, it's got nothing to do with love or anything like that," Marek said. "But, Solya, you're my dearest friend and closest ally, and I would not hurt you or take anything you wouldn't give me for all the treasure of the world. You know that, don't you?"

 _So you're not in love with me and would be happy to fuck anything that moves right now, but since I'm right here, you have a slight preference for it to be me? And I'm supposed to feel_ flattered _?_ Solya said, "I know."

Marek snuggled a little closer. "So? I mean, I'm pouring my heart out here, and all you've got to say is 'I know'? Come on. That's hardly fair, is it?"

"Love rarely is," Solya said. He realized he half-hoped to make Marek change his mind and half not.

"You could at least let me look at your face when you go making declarations like that," Marek said.

"It's dark," Solya said. _And the spell I put on you to enable you to see in the dark might not have entirely worn off yet._ "And I - you were right. We're friends, allies. It would be unwise to become more."

"Screw the court and all their stupid games," Marek said. "I love you, you love me, why make things more complicated than that?"

_I dare you to repeat that tomorrow, where your soldiers and the baronet and his family can hear._

"Please don't talk to me like I'm one of your servant girls," Solya said, though he'd fantasized about it sometimes, about being treated like it went without saying that he was honored to welcome Marek in his bed, to do all sort of things to bring Marek pleasure.

Of course, he'd also enjoyed a fair share of fantasies about the reverse, about showing Marek that Solya was a wizard, and it was wise to treat wizards with respect.

Most of the time, though, he'd imagined - well, something like this. A moment, a happy accident. A chance for the two of them to stop being wizard and prince and be nothing more or other than two people, sharing a bed.

Marek laughed and said, "All right, tell me how you want me to talk to you, and I'll do my best to oblige. Though I warn you, you'd better make it worth my while." His voice made it sound less like a warning and more like a promise - or a request, perhaps. An offer.

Solya could work with an offer, a simple exchange of favors. He turned around, facing Marek, seeing Marek's face in the dark, the remnants of Solya's magic still sticking to his skin.

He kissed Marek, feeling Marek kiss him back, feeling Marek's body press against his, hard and lean and strong and short-lived.

 _A simple exchange of favors,_ he reminded himself. _That's all._


End file.
